Let's get to Hong-Kong, James, and hit the high spots while there is time. Widgett was a journalist and art critic, addicted to a greenish-gray tweed suit and “art” brown ties; he smoked corncob pipes in the Avenue on Sunday morning, travelled third class to London by unusual trains, and openly despised golf. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. ’ Trodger eyed her with suspicion.
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